


She Stills the Voices

by Ellen_Fitzwilliam_Brandybuck



Series: To Be or Not to Be, That is Their Question [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Awkward Romance, Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Healing, Romance, Romantic Friendship, Slow Romance, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:14:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27877425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellen_Fitzwilliam_Brandybuck/pseuds/Ellen_Fitzwilliam_Brandybuck
Summary: Would he never be free of this darkness that shattered his bones and threatened the threads of his sanity? Haunted by the ghosts of his past, Cullen discovers a welcome peace while in the presence of Ataashi Adaar, the Vashoth Inquisitor. There was something about Ataashi that pulled him and made Cullen want to continue opening up to her. With his first impressions of the mercenary now melted into a muddled mass of emotional confusion, Cullen must choose what it is he feels for Ataashi. It was all so strange to Cullen; this abrupt change inside him regarding the Inquistior. Her purple-hued eyes were calm, open, inviting, and her lips were pulled back into an easy smile. Though the ghosts still haunted him and the pain still wracked through his body, whenever Ataashi was near, he felt more capable of handling himself. Adaar/Cullen oneshot series self-challenge Part 4
Relationships: Blackwall/Josephine Montilyet, Female Adaar/Cullen Rutherford, Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus
Series: To Be or Not to Be, That is Their Question [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2101113
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12
Collections: To Be or Not To Be That is Their Question





	She Stills the Voices

**Author's Note:**

> This is the fourth standalone oneshot of my rogue Vashoth Ataashi Adaar and Cullen Rutherford. While you do not have to read the previous stories, they would give greater depth to these scenes. The first is "Never in a Thousand years," the second is "Truth or Lie in the Dark," and the third is "Half Agony, Half Hope," with the stories alternating POVs. This one is told from Cullen's and will refer to events in previous stories in such a way that you can catch the drift without having to slog through the other stories. I purposefully keep them as oneshots so I don't feel overwhelmed with the lore's immensity—because that stalls out my stories sometimes—and you can take it in a direction I don't take it as you like. Feel free to leave praise, critiques, or requests for future scenes. Many humble thanks to the dedicated readers/reviewers who come back for more. Cheers!

Cullen breathed through his nose, held it, and then pushed the air out in a rush through his mouth. Cassandra had taught him this technique to help alleviate the tension the nightmares brought. He repeated the gesture, keeping one hand on his chest and the other on his belly. The nightmares were growing stronger as the lyrium withdrawal symptoms increased. Every morning Cullen had to claw himself awake. Digging himself out of the graves of his comrades tortured and killed at the Fereldon Circle. Running away from the wraiths of those mages he'd been unwilling to protect in Kirkwall. Closing his ears to the cries of the innocent who perished because of his ineptitude. But the memories did not remain in his dreams. They chased him as he went through his days, revealing themselves as ghosts inhabiting the voices of his comrades or hovering just outside his line of vision as he walked the halls of Skyhold. Would he never be free of this darkness that shattered his bones and threatened the threads of his sanity?

Though early morning, Cullen's focus on his breathing exercise wavered when he heard a soft knock at one of the doors below. Frowning, Cullen didn't bother trying to look out the window near his bed; it wouldn't show anything except a far portion of the battlement and the mountains that would lead a sojourner towards the remains of Haven. Cullen waited, curious if it had just been his imagination or a further haunting. The knock was louder, but still hesitant when it sounded again. He pulled on his leggings and threw on a tunic, not bothering with his boots or armor just yet. It would still be hours before the morning meal, and he didn't accept morning missives until just before that.

Cullen descended the ladder and padded to the door. The stones were cold, and he shivered, momentarily regretting his decision to forego shoes. Cracking open the door, Cullen's eyes widened. The Inquisitor herself stood outside, her purple-hued eyes coming back to rest on him after traveling the perimeter, checking to see if anyone else was awake beside the night's watch.

"Ataashi," Cullen stepped back and ushered her inside, "is something the matter?"

She moved as silently as ever, and Cullen didn't think he'd ever get over how fascinating it was that a woman of her height and strength could remain so stealthy. It was almost a shame she specialized in the arts of artifice instead of becoming an assassin, for she truly had a gift. Once she stood inside, moving close to his desk and shifting some of his papers around, Cullen shut the door. He noticed then that she too was barefoot and was similarly clad in leggings and tunic only. Though pulled back into a braid, her hair looked askew as if she had not yet attempted to coif it after a night's rest. Curious.

"Ataashi?" He drew close, his concern lacing his deep morning voice. It was not like her to appear so disheveled or seek him out so early in the morning.

Staying true to her nature of quick but silent movements, Ataashi turned and grabbed the fabric of his tunic, dragging him closer faster than he could gasp in a breath. She pivoted on her feet and had him pressed against the bookshelf by his desk, and she leaning heavily against him by the time he even registered he'd been moved at all. Cullen brought his hands up in reflex, taking hold of her wrists.

"What are-" Cullen's voice died out as his gaze caught hers.

Her eyes were wide, her full lips parted, and her large, warm hands opened from their grip and laid over his chest. Cullen sucked in his breath when she moved closer, her hips insistent against him. Warmth started in his toes and spread throughout his body, feeling heavy and full when it reached his groin. He moved his hands up her muscular forearms, skirting them over the underside of her biceps, before settling them on her ribs, tugging her closer still.

"Ataashi," Cullen sighed out her name as if it were a prayer when he felt her chest press into his.

He moved one of his hands to cup the back of her neck, finding purchase there as he raised himself up. Andraste, but she was tall. Beautiful. Strong. Beyond him. And yet, here they were. Cullen could feel the warmth of her breath fan across his cheeks, their lips nearly touching, just as before when they'd been stuck at the bottom of the blessed sinkhole. Only this time, Sera would not drop through his ceiling to rescue them and interrupt them at the same time. This time they would finally kiss.

"You will do as I command," her voice was like ice water, simultaneously freezing his blood and stilling his body. Cullen tried to breathe, but the air was all gone. In its place was ash. Ataashi, no, not Ataashi, Knight Commander Meridith, smirked down at him. "You are weak, captain. You have always been weak."

Cullen was no longer in his office. They now stood on a battlefield. Though he still stood immobilized, as he looked around, Cullen saw the faces of those he considered friends, now white with death. Cassandra, with her torso flayed open. Rylen, with his headless body discarded inches away from his head. Josephine speared through the neck, lying next to Leliana, whose face was cut so severely he could only tell by instinct that it was the spymaster. Varric was more mush than dwarf, his trusty bow in pieces. And there was Sera, Iron Bull, Dorian, Vivienne, Solas…all the members of the Inquisition dead at his feet. Only…

"I have done nothing but my duty," Meridith whispered near his ear, circling behind him and pointing off into the grey mist that lapped at their heels like a hungry fiend. "What happens to her is now your doing."

Through the mist he saw her, Ataashi, fighting off demons all on her own. He tried to call out to her, tried to run to lend her aid. But he was mute; he was powerless. He heard her call his name, begging him to come to her side. But he could not. Meridith hissed out a laugh next to him, her form transforming into that of the desire demon who had tortured him in Fereldon.

"She will die because of you." The demon gloated as it circled to face him, slowly moving back towards the wavering Ataashi. "They all will."

"NO!" Cullen surged upright, his body twisting in the blankets of his bed before he cratered off the edge and slammed onto the stone floor.

Though now in pain, Cullen was thankful for it. It confirmed that he was no longer dreaming. This pain was sharp and visceral, not muted and elusive as it was in dreams. He gasped in a breath as he blinked the world into place. It was daylight, and he heard the changing of the watch on the battlements outside his tower. Skyhold was waking up. But even if it hadn't been, Cullen was damned certain his screaming would've woken them up, anyway. Groaning, Cullen rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He needed to talk to Cassandra. This was getting out of hand. Cullen didn't bother breaking his fast. After hurriedly dressing, he received the morning missives from his men, took care of some correspondence, then went in search of Cassandra. He was hounded all the way with the pain and incessant ghosts.

"Commander," Cullen gritted his teeth when Dorian intercepted him just a few yards away from where Cassandra could typically be found, "might I have a word?"

"Just one?" Cullen crossed his arms over his chest. "How unlike you, Pavus."

Dorian smiled, "Yes, it would be, wouldn't it? I was wondering if you could join me for a chess game later this morning? Perhaps before you report to the war table?"

"I don't think-"

"I insist, Commander," Dorian leaned into Cullen's space, forcing Cullen to shift backward to avoid a face collision, "I just don't seem to have the knack for teaching our dearest Inquisitor how to play. I know in the past we've played some cooperative games together, the three of us, but she recently expressed a desire to learn chess, and I will admit to having at least this one weakness, and that is the ability to teach chess."

Cullen hesitated. The thought of spending time with Ataashi was both a draw and a repellent. The dream had been so real; he knew he wouldn't be able to look her in the eyes without remembering the ghost sensations of holding her. And though the dream had quickly turned into a nightmare, those few precious moments before that were now seared into his imagination. Cullen clenched his fists. Ever since they'd returned from the Winter Palace, he'd tried to work up the nerve to talk to her like they had on the balcony after the mayhem of intrigue had ended. They'd been able to discuss the evening's chaos as friends, and when Cullen had tried to fulfill her earlier request, and his own desire, by asking her to dance, they'd been interrupted by Cassandra, who had been eager to return to Skyhold. Before the interruption, there'd been a moment of warmth shared. Similar to the bond that had grown while they awaited discovery and rescue at the bottom of the sinkhole months ago. Something more than friendship; something worth exploring.

There was something about Ataashi that pulled him and made Cullen want to continue opening up to her. Perhaps it was the way she looked at him without judgment and the way when she listened to him, and he felt as if he could tell her anything without risk of condemnation or rejection. Or maybe it was how she treasured the same things he did—honor, integrity, duty, loyalty—and how alike they were in how they sought to deal out justice in an unjust world. Of course, there was also the fact that she bucked against every assumption one might have for a Vashoth mercenary, having gifts in healing and latent abilities in diplomacy.

It was all so strange to Cullen; this abrupt change inside him regarding Ataashi. Only in recent weeks had Cullen been able to admit that his opinion on her physical stature was quite the opposite of what it had been when they first met. Nearly every feature that had first been considered too foreign and strange to him for a consideration of something more than friendship now centered itself in his mind's eyes as something to be treasured as unique for Ataashi. Her height no longer intimidated him but made it easier for him to find her when his eyes wandered a room in search of her, and her strength and fighting prowess was a source of pride instead of a deterrent. More than once, Cullen remembered taking hold of her horns to remove her unconscious head from his lap after her fainting fit in Haven. Only his imagination now did wicked things to the memory, and he was no longer removing her from anything but was holding her steady as she...

Cullen shook his head and brought himself back to the conversation with Dorian. The mage was still waiting for an answer and appeared to be amused by Cullen's absentmindedness.

"I must speak with Cassandra, and then I will see about that game. I do have a lot of work to do."

Dorian didn't look impressed or convinced, "Very well. I'll just explain to Adaar that you are too busy to teach her what I cannot."

Dorian swiveled on his heel and would've sashayed his way up the steps into Skyhold's main hall if Cullen didn't stop him, "Wait, wait, Pavus." Dorian looked over his shoulder at Cullen, triumph already lighting his eyes. Cullen sighed, "I'll meet you in the courtyard in two hours. Will that suffice?" Dorian grinned like a Cheshire moon. "I can spare at least an hour."

"When things take this long to build," Dorian purred, "they rarely last an hour."

The Tevinter moved out of earshot before Cullen could ask just what the hell that meant. Shaking his head, Cullen resumed his search of the Seeker, his thoughts straying once more to the Inquisitor.

He had yet to know of Ataashi's current interest or awareness level in pursuing this newfound attraction. Well, it was newfound on his part. Cullen remembered well the words he'd spoken back at Haven when he'd sidestepped her budding interest in him. He didn't know many women who continued their interest in a man who rejected them like that. Still, he also was not so dense that he couldn't recognize her attraction and desire for him when they sat side-by-side at the bottom of that sinkhole, both under the influence of pain and whatever the hell had been in those sweets of Vivienne's. And while he'd cocked up the conversation while they'd danced at Halamshiral and had very nearly done so again on the balcony after the chaos had ended, there had been that spark that passed between them to consider as well.

Cullen took a deep breath, placing his hand on the door to the smiths. Cassandra was not yet hacking at the training dummies, and so must be upstairs. He pushed inside and took to the stairs, still thinking of Ataashi. Ever since the death of Celene and Gaspard's status as Emperor secured, they had both been pulled in different directions trying to manage the Inquisition and chase after leads on Corypheus. He barely had time to eat a proper meal these days, let alone chase down the equally busy Inquisitor for a friendly chat. He kept assuring himself that the elusive tomorrow would be the day he spoke to her in private and seek to further the connection between them. That day had yet to come for either of them. Well, at least until a certain mischievous mage had taken matters into his hands and manufactured a potential moment later this very morning.

"I would say good morning," Cassandra looked up from the table at his approach, "but I know better." She pushed her chair back and stood. "I heard your yell this morning. Was it so bad?"

Cullen nodded, "Yes. I've come to ask for your opinion on the matter."

"I have given it already. Why would you expect it to change?" She crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her feet wider apart as if she expected Cullen to attack her for her unwavering determination.

Cullen fisted his hands and placed them gingerly on the table, "I expect you to keep your word."

"I always have."

"It's relentless." Cullen felt the pain ripple through his body as he spoke of his hardship, and he stared up at Cassandra with a plea upon his lips, "I can't-"

She shook her head, "You give yourself too little credit."

"If I am unable to fulfill what vows I kept, then nothing good has come of this." Cullen stood straight and shook his head, "Would you rather save face than admit-"

The sound of a throat clearing had them both looking towards the stairs. None other than Ataashi stood there, looking ashamed for having stumbled upon an obviously tense discussion. While Cullen was curious how much she had heard, he was also relieved to have her interrupt. It seemed Cassandra would be no help, as she refused to admit that he was unfit for duty just yet. Cullen nodded to Ataashi before turning his fatigued gaze back to Cassandra.

"Forgive me," He backed away and waved for Ataashi to come closer, "I must meet with the others at the war table before joining Dorian."

He heard Cassandra mutter something about him being stubborn as he hurried down the steps, but he didn't dawdle to remind the Seeker she had the same endearing quality. He really did want to check in with Josephine and Leliana before meeting Dorian. Knowing the mage, Dorian would come up with many excuses for why Cullen needed to stay longer than was absolutely necessary. And Cullen shouldn't mind all that much. If Dorian had been speaking the truth earlier and Ataashi wanted to learn how to play chess, this would be a good opportunity to clear the air between them and get some sense of where they were heading.

"Commander," Leliana spoke a greeting without looking over her shoulder; she sat at a desk next to the fireplace in the war room. Sometimes the spymaster's abilities were nerve-wracking. "I am finishing a few things here and will join the two of you in a moment."

Cullen turned his attention to Josephine. She looked as bright and cheery as ever. More so, perhaps, now that the fiasco with Blackwall, nay, Rainier was over. All this time, Cullen had thought Blackwall would develop something for Adaar—Ataashi had admitted to a kiss exchanged between them when he had played the truth or lie game with her in the sinkhole. But it had come as quite a surprise to him when Leliana asked his opinion on the matter of Blackwall's interest in Josephine. He hadn't known what to say and still didn't. When he'd finally asked her about it, Josephine had described the feelings between her and the "Warden" with some fancy and obtuse Orlesian term that described hearts being lost or some other such nonsense. Cullen still didn't quite understand the ins and outs of whatever was happening between those two, but at least Josephine seemed happy enough, and Blackwall/Rainier did as well.

"Knight-captain Rylen recently returned from the Hinterlands," Josephine pointed her writing quill towards the map, "he said to-"

Cullen only half-listened as Josephine spoke. The lack of sleep from the night before, the building curiosity of what was to happen later when he met with Dorian and Ataashi, and the beginnings of a headache all worked as a distraction. His eyes studied the map, and in the study, Cullen realized something about the area about Calenhad. He opened his mouth to ask Josephine if she saw it when he heard Ataashi laugh from somewhere down in the courtyard below. He stilled when her laugh echoed again, further drawing Cullen's attention away from the war table. It was loud, unadulterated, and it surprised him the amount of jealousy that surged through his body that it wasn't HE who was making her laugh like that.

"You were saying something about…" He vaguely heard a voice beside him and startled when a soft hand took hold of his elbow. It was Josephine, her eyes as warm and kind as always, "Cullen? Are you well?"

Cullen blinked, "Hmm?" Josephine continued to stare at him with concern even as another round of laughter traveled up to the war room. Cullen offered Josephine a wry smile, "A headache, nothing more."

"I hope the sound of mirth hasn't triggered it." Leliana's sarcasm was not welcomed.

Cullen turned his attention back to the map and pointed again, "I said that if you squint, Lake Calenhad is shaped like a bunny."

"Perhaps we should take a-" Josephine stopped when Leliana suddenly leaned past, handing off her bundle of letters to the ambassador before studying the map as Cullen indicated.

"Oh," the spymaster's lips quirked upwards, "I think I see it."

The door opened, and Ataashi strode in, looking far happier than she had when she'd found him with Cassandra, not an hour before. Cullen couldn't pull his eyes away, taking in every detail of her approach. The lightness of her step, the mirthful gleam in her eyes. The juxtaposition of seeing her like this to what she'd appeared like in his dream the night before momentarily robbed him of breath.

"Inquisitor," Cullen shook himself away from self-pity and greeted Ataashi, "we were-"

Leliana sidled up to Ataashi and not so quietly whispered, "Eagerly awaiting your presence," she guided the Inquisitor next to the table and added, "some of us more than others."

Cullen felt his cheeks heat, and before he averted his eyes from Ataashi's face, he thought he saw a mirroring pink touch her cheeks as well.

"I wasn't-" Cullen moved to stand next to the war table and purposefully gripped its sides. Ataashi looked up, caught his gaze, and Cullen felt his heart stutter. "I mean I was-" He heard Josephine clear her throat beside him, and he shook his head, breaking eye contact with Ataashi and looking back to the war table between them, "We have work to do."

"Of course," Ataashi replied, her voice as clear as ever.

Taking hold of the conversation, Josephine pulled out a bundle of letters from the satchel she had earlier discarded on the table. "Cullen, I have requests here for information on your lineage." Cullen narrowed his gaze as she continued. "From a few interested parties at the Winter Palace."

He heard Leliana snort before he growled, "Andraste, preserve me." He pointed towards the fireplace. "Feel free to use those requests as kindling for our next fire."

"No," Leliana snatched them from Josephine before the ambassador could travel far in her path to the fire to do Cullen's bidding, "I shall take them. I want to know who pines for our commander." Cullen's eyes darted towards Ataashi, and his heart stuttered again when their gazes collided. It lasted only a second before she moved some icons around on the map. "We can use this to our advantage, Cullen," Leliana added, tucking the letters into her sash with a satisfied smirk on her face.

Cullen glared and put his hands on his hips, "I am not bait."

"Hush!" Leliana clicked her tongue against her teeth, "Just continue to look pretty."

"If we are to employ him as a lure, what about his hair?" Josephine stepped close again, her eyes trailing over Cullen's head. "Why don't we do something new with it?"

Cullen felt his irritation amplify, but wisely kept his mouth shut. He knew both women were trying to get a rise out of him. For what purpose, he couldn't quite tell, but they were certainly up to something. This barrage reminded him too much of his sister's and he'd learned long ago to keep silent when they were in such moods as this.

"He does something with his hair already," Leliana commented with a knowing grin.

"It does look nice today, doesn't it, Inquisitor?" Josephine turned her smiling eyes towards Ataashi.

Cullen watched Ataashi open and close her mouth silently a few times before she gave a head jerk as a nod.

"I don't-" Cullen made the mistake of drawing Leliana's attention back to himself when he spoke.

She smirked, "So you're saying it just gets that way on its own?"

"Not entirely." Cullen clenched his fists together and purposefully evened his breath. It was time to change the subject. "Leliana, you and Vivienne seemed to be the only ones to enjoy yourselves at the Winter Palace. Or was that just part of The Game?"

Leliana shrugged, "Perhaps it was both." She crossed her arms over her chest and stared back at Cullen, unblinking and fully intending upon standing there and staring until one of them caved or blinked.

"Have we heard from the young chevalier we recently recruited?" Ataashi severed the stare down Cullen and Leliana began with her question. "Michel de Chevin?"

Turning back to more important matters by Ataashi's question, they conferenced for some time longer before breaking for the morning meal. Cullen didn't bother, his stomach just couldn't hold food right these days, and instead made his way to the courtyard to meet with Dorian. The Tevinter was already waiting, a tea tray burdened with sandwiches and cookies and two steaming pots of tea also waiting. Cullen eyed the tray and the mage as if either might attack him.

"You expect us to eat this within an hour?" Cullen edged around the heavily ladened food table to take his seat.

Dorian didn't look up from the book he held loosely between his fingers, "I expect YOU to eat and drink something, yes."

"What do you mean?" Cullen narrowed his gaze at the man sitting across from him.

"You really aren't as mysterious as you like to think, Commander." Dorian continued to lazily peruse his book, obviously not reading. "You've been steadfast in your avoidance of the tavern or main hall during mealtimes, and there's a certain gauntness developing about those cheeks I used to rave about." Dorian slapped the book shut and stared directly at Cullen. "I may not know the whys, but I can see the results, and I must say they are not at all attractive." Setting aside his book, Dorian picked up his teacup and saluted Cullen with it, "Now, be a good commander, and eat."

Cullen continued to glare, "That's pretty presumptuous of you, Pavus. But I shouldn't be surprised, not since it is you."

"Are you sassing me, Commander?" Dorian sneered over the brim of his teacup. "I didn't know you had it in you."

Cullen frowned. This had been a bad idea. "Why do I even-"

"Adaar!" Dorian's teacup clanked against its saucer as he set it down and aside. Cullen looked over to see Ataashi approach. There would be no escaping now. He stood to greet her. Dorian just waved her closer. "So good of you to join us. Come, please, sit. Have some tea. I believe the commander was just about to have some as well." The mage shoved the tea and saucer piled high with crumpets into Cullen's hand before pouring a cup for Ataashi. "There's a seat over here, dearie," his eyes darted to the chair positioned between Dorian's and Cullen's. "Perfect for learning the game."

Cullen glared at the tea, but then wiped his face of ill sentiments when Ataashi sat next to him, barely seated before Dorian shoved a similarly ladened saucer into her hands. She looked as awkward about the tea as Cullen felt. And all the while, Dorian sat across from him, innocently nibbling on a scone. Not wanting to leave Ataashi feeling unwelcomed, Cullen mimicked Dorian's earlier teacup salute and sipped at the warm liquid. It was quite good, whatever flavor it was, but he purposefully kept himself from commenting on it. The mage would be beside himself with victory, most likely setting them all aflame from his sheer delight.

"I've prepared the board," Dorian spoke between nibbles, "but I'm afraid Cullen here will have to explain the deeper nuances of the game as we play."

Ataashi nodded, "Tea and scones first, Dorian. Then we play." Her enthusiasm for the sweets and beverage surprised Cullen, but he mirrored her enthusiasm for them when she turned a jovial gaze toward him. He ate two in a breath and was working on a third when she spoke again, "These are lovely, Dorian. Did you make them yourself?"

"Venhedis, no! We would all be doubled over near death if I attempted something as scrumptious as this." Dorian's eyes gleamed as he leaned forward and spoke at a conspiratorial level, "Don't let him know I told you, but Bull made all this." He winked at Cullen then leaned back into his seat again, "Well, except for the tea, of course. I made that."

Cullen eyed the crumbs of what was left of the food Dorian had shoved onto his saucer. He hadn't realized he'd eaten all that till just then. "Should I still fear for my life?"

"If he hadn't been declared Tal-Vashoth, perhaps." Ataashi giggled at Cullen's look, and any misgivings he had about poisonings dissipated when confronted with her amusement. She redirected her attention back to Dorian, "Did he REALLY make all this, or did Cole give you a fake memory?"

"I swear on my grandmother's grave."

Ataashi rolled her eyes, "Isn't your grandmother still alive?"

"The grave she will eventually inhabit, I mean."

Cullen set aside the dregs of his tea before the madness could continue and indicated the board, "I believe we can begin?" He waited for Ataashi to nod before he meticulously walked her through the steps to the game. "Now would you like to play Dorian, or-"

"I'd rather watch the first round."

"Most virgins do."

"What?" Cullen and Ataashi spoke at once, both staring at Dorian as if he'd gone mad.

Dorian grinned shamelessly, "Or so I'm told."

"I don't know if I should be offended or amused." Ataashi lowered her head and shook it, the sound of her chuckling alerting them to which of the two she'd chosen. "You are too much sometimes, Dorian."

"Oh, is that something you would rather not discuss in front of the Commander?" Dorian feigned a look of concern. "I'm terribly sorry to have dropped that out in the open like that. Usually, I'm more discreet with my innuendos. But if we are not on 'discuss our sexual prowess' terms, I'll hush up."

"Dorian, I-" Ataashi snapped her mouth shut and shook her head again, interrupting herself from finishing her thought.

"What?" Dorian continued to smile, obviously well aware of what he was up to.

Cullen interjected before Ataashi could, "Perhaps Dorian and I should play the first round?"

Ataashi nodded, still shaking her head but not giving off any sign of being genuinely perturbed by Dorian's teasing. Cullen knew from their time in the sinkhole together that Ataashi was not a virgin. She'd confessed to only one more partner than he'd ever had, and from what he could remember of the conversation, it seemed as awkward and fumbling as his tryst had been. Despite the maladroit misgivings from his own past sexual encounter, it had still been better than the two she'd experienced. Cullen was also confident that Dorian most likely knew about Ataashi's past romantic encounters. The mage had a way of figuring things out he had no business knowing. So what was the purpose of his teasing?

"Commander, you need to come to terms with my inevitable victory," Dorian spoke triumphantly later as their game came to a close. "You'll feel much better."

Cullen rolled his eyes as he picked up one of his pieces, "Really?"

"Yes, the board is mine." Dorian leaned back and gave Ataashi a firm head nod as if he expected her to mirror his actions. She didn't. Instead, she kept her eyes on Cullen and the piece he had yet to place.

"I just won Dorian." Cullen set down the piece, then gently tipped over Dorian's queen. "And I feel just fine."

Dorian studied the board with a frown then sighed, "Don't get smug. There will be no living with you." The Tevinter turned to Ataashi and gestured to the board, "Are you ready to face your foe now, Adaar?"

"I believe so." She looked over to Cullen and smiled, "Prepare the board, Commander."

Cullen moved to do just that, but hesitated when Dorian suddenly stood and made a great show of stretching his arms out. Both Ataashi and Cullen stared up at him, waiting for his inevitable fabricated explanation.

"I'm afraid I have other matters to attend to now." His smirk grated on Cullen's nerves, and yet Cullen found himself grateful for the soon-to-be privacy he would have with Ataashi. "Do be a doll, Adaar, and beat him."

They both shook their heads at Dorian's retreat before Cullen finished setting up the board. Ataashi rolled her shoulders and neck before leaning her elbows on her knees and edging closer to the board as if proximity was the winning factor. It reminded him of some of his brother Branson's behavior when first playing.

Ataashi caught sight of his far-off smile, and Cullen shrugged, "I was remembering when I used to play this with my brother and sister. I believe I told you about that?"

Ataashi nodded, "Mia would beat you, but you and Branson worked together to win against her, eventually."

"Yes," Cullen chuckled, shaking his head as the memories continued to play out in his mind, "the last time we played, Mia was trying to introduce her eldest daughter to the game, but the poor thing couldn't stand to sit still long enough to learn. Branson and I weren't any help, of course, constantly bribing her with sweets to fidget or move around and distract Mia so we could have the advantage still."

"And I'm called the mercenary?" Ataashi joined in Cullen's amusement with a laugh. "Did she ever find out?"

Cullen shrugged, "I'm not sure. She's the type that even if she knew she wouldn't say, much preferring to get payback in some other fashion when you were least expecting it." His smile sobered as he remembered the unanswered letters on his desk, "She writes me often, and it is funny how she always seems to know where I am and what I'm up to. It is almost as if she's one of Leliana's agents."

"What if she was?" Ataashi prodded, drawing Cullen's attention back from his inner musings.

Cullen shook his head, "After what we went through with the Blight, losing our parents, I doubt my sister would want to risk her own family with dealings in the Great Game or any other of Leliana's ploys. No, I'll just chalk it up to sisterly intuition."

Ataashi continued to study him. Cullen appreciated the way the mid-morning sunlight highlighted the brighter streaks of red in her hair, the splashes of brilliant color weaving in and out of the braid she kept neat and tidy during the day—but which he'd seen disheveled in real life and in dreams. Her purple-hued eyes were calm, open, inviting, and her lips were pulled back into an easy smile. Cullen felt himself relax for the first time in what felt like forever.

"So do I go first, or do you?"

"Oh," Cullen sat up straight and fought his embarrassment. He'd completely forgotten to indicate. "How about you go first this time?"

She made a safe move, not surprisingly, and Cullen played to her tactics instead of seeking to defeat her outrightly. Best she learns than just feel at a loss.

"Have you seen Rosalie or Branson recently?" Ataashi questioned while Cullen searched for an adequate countermove.

Cullen shook his head, "I haven't seen Branson in years. After Mia married and moved in with her husband, Rosalie joined their household. She's been keeping busy acting as a governess to Mia's children. But Branson was left to his own devices. There was some vague talk years ago of him joining the Templars, but by that time, both myself and Mia talked him out of it," Cullen made his move then tapped his fingers against his chin as he waited for Ataashi to make her responding move, "I'm uncertain what he decided to do after that. Mia hasn't told me and Branson has never written."

Ataashi made quick work of her next move before she asked, "Have you thought about visiting them?"

"What?" Cullen paused in his movements. "There is no time for me to drop everything and travel to South Reach." He shook his head before returning his attention to the board, "No, letters will have to suffice for now."

They played a round in silence. In it, Cullen's thoughts again moved towards his siblings. He hadn't directly heard from Rosalie in quite some time, and Branson even longer. Mia was the only one who regularly attempted to contact him, and he should be horsewhipped for his inattentiveness in responding to her. Although he spoke true, and there was very little time or ability to travel to South Reach to see them, perhaps he could do more to remedy their accidental estrangement.

"Was it Dorian's idea or yours?" Ataashi's question again pulled him from his thoughts.

"Pardon?"

She smiled as she picked up her piece and moved it between her fingers, "Meeting here, this game, this privacy." She set it back down and leaned back in her chair. "Was it your idea or Dorian's?"

"I, er, um," Cullen coughed, "Dorian approached me this morning before we met in the smiths," Cullen ran a hand over the back of his neck and sighed, "I am grateful for this time with you, Ataashi. It may not have been my idea, but it was a good idea."

Ataashi studied him quietly for a moment more then smiled and nodded, "I agree." She leaned over and snatched another crumpet from what remained on the tea tray. "In fact, I believe we should spend more time together." Cullen felt his heart speed up at her words, light and yet boldly spoken. Ataashi nodded towards the board, "It is your turn, Commander."

"Right." He returned his attention to the board and quickly made a move. If she was observant, there would be hell to pay for his haste.

Ataashi dusted off her leggings of crumbs and leaned in to study the board again, "I spoke with Cassandra this morning." Cullen's good spirits dwindled at the sudden shift in topic. "Or rather, she spoke to me." Ataashi looked up through her lashes at Cullen, and he felt, yet again, that he could tell her anything. "She mentioned you were having a hard time with the withdrawals." She waited for a breath longer, holding his eyes before she blinked and looked back to the board, near whispering, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Cullen glanced at the tea tray, suddenly wishing there was something a bit stronger than tea sitting there. He wanted to both curse and bless Cassandra for her forthrightness. Aside from the Seeker, if there were anyone else he would like to know or be aware of his struggles, it was Ataashi. As the Inquisitor, she had a right to know the extent of the truth. As a woman he found himself drawn to, she equally had a right to know. Cullen brought his hands together.

"Has anyone ever told you about the events at Fereldan Circle?" Ataashi's hand hovered over a piece, and she glanced up at him. She shook her head and dropped her hand. There would be no attempt to play while the tale was told. Cullen tightened his hands before resuming, "I was a young templar then. We were betrayed from within, and demons overtook the Circle. Abominations." He dropped his head and closed his eyes, the ghosts pressing closer as the memory was relived. "The templars, my friends, were slaughtered." He closed his eyes as the ghosts' voices crying out drowned his own.

"Cullen," his eyes opened, and he startled when her warm hand laid itself over his clenched ones. Ataashi was perched on the edge of her seat, leaning across the board to lend him comfort. The voices stilled, and the Cullen could breathe again. Ataashi waited until he nodded before removing her hand and settling back into her chair to wait for more of his story.

"I alone remained alive. A desire demon tried to break my mind, torturing me by using the guise of people I knew and loved. By the time I was found and set free, I was no longer the son, the brother, the brave Knight-Templar." Cullen shuddered. "Perhaps, as I speak of it now, that is why I could never remain long in the presence of my siblings. I told no one all of what happened to me at the Circle. Not until today." Ataashi gave a reverent head nod. "I don't think they would understand."

Ataashi readjusted the way she was sitting in her seat as if the words she was about to say demanded she find a new position from which to tell them. Cullen waited, but without anxiety. He knew already that everything he had said had been received without judgment, and he cherished that about Ataashi.

"You know," Ataashi rubbed her forehead near the base of her left horn, "I didn't know how you were going to receive the information about my parents and past when I shared with you in the sinkhole." Bracing her elbows on her knees, she clasped her hands together in a manner he often did. "It isn't every day that a Vashoth mercenary opens up about a past of torture and persecution to a former Templar. Not to mention admitting that I prefer healing people to killing people and once dreamed of joining the Order. That doesn't bode well for one's reputation in my previous line of work." Her attempt at humor despite the gravity of the topic hanging between them had Cullen smiling. "But I took that risk because I believed you deserved to know more about me."

Cullen raised his eyebrows, "What do you mean?"

"Well," Ataashi bounced her left foot, jostling her whole torso as she continued to lean on her knees, "I value your opinion, on the Inquisition, and on me. You have become someone I turn to when in doubt and someone I would like to seek when in difficult or trying times." He could tell she was drawing on her lessons of diplomacy from Josephine from the measured way she spoke. "I treasure your friendship, Cullen, and in the sinkhole, I took a risk and made myself vulnerable to you, hoping our friendship would deepen." She sat up straight and gave a head jerk, "I would like to think that my risk paid off."

Cullen was silent. There was so much said and yet unsaid between them. He wasn't sure if by her careful diction she was trying to distract him from the truth that she still held him in higher regard than mere friendship, or if she genuinely did just feel friendship for him now. But, either way, it was a welcome opening for him to admit to a few truths of his own.

"I believe it has," Cullen smiled, watching as her shoulders relaxed as his words sunk in, "though you still owe me a dance."

Ataashi chuckled, "How about this? I'll dance with you once you've reported that you've attempted to talk with your family about your past."

"That's blackmail." Cullen frowned. "And I'm not so certain a letter is adequate in trying to communicate events such as those."

"Well then, invite your family here, to Skyhold." At Cullen's expression, Ataashi smiled, "The journey from South Reach is safe as it is under the protection of the Inquisition and our allies. Though long, it would not be fraught with danger. And the weather has been good for some time. I don't believe it will take a turn for sour anytime soon." Cullen still wasn't convinced, and Ataashi could discern that from his expression. She redoubled her efforts, "If you remember, Vivienne's acquaintances came to visit after her lover died, and even Josephine's would-be fiancé came and dueled Blackwall just a few weeks back. Not forgetting to mention Varric's flame, Bianca, and my own old mercenary leader, Shokrakar stopped by for less than cordial visits. So it isn't too unreasonable a thought."

Cullen pulled a hand through his hair. His siblings, here at Skyhold. After years of being apart, having them underfoot, and perhaps with his nieces and nephews in tow, was quite the mental image. There was some merit to the idea of introducing them to his friends, allowing them to put faces to the names they'd heard about in past letters. And it would perhaps be enlightening for them to see him at his work. He looked across to Ataashi, letting his eyes linger longer than was polite on her features before looking back to the board. They would meet her as well if they came. He hadn't told them about his burgeoning feelings for the Inquisitor; the last letter to Mia had been brief and stoic. Would they guess it if they came?

"Just give it some thought, Cullen." Ataashi smiled at him. "You don't need to decide now. I just thought that since you've been struggling with the withdrawals, maybe revealing the pain to the ones you love would further protect you from giving in and giving up."

He sat up and nodded, "There is wisdom in your suggestion, Ataashi. I will consider it."

After another shared smile of camaraderie, they resumed their nearly forgotten game. They played two more rounds, then adjourned to their respective duties soon after. Ataashi's challenge returned to Cullen that afternoon and acting on impulse for a change—and one guided by a certain Vashoth—Cullen wrote a letter of invitation to his sister. He used Leliana's ravens to send it off to South Reach and stood on the battlements watching it fly off when Ataashi joined him again.

Though the ghosts still haunted him and the pain still wracked through his body, whenever Ataashi was near, he felt more capable of handling himself.

"Is that what I think it is?" Ataashi leaned over the edge of the battlements, her eyes tracking the bird's flight.

Cullen studied her, taking in how she had to drape herself over the stone wall and yet remained nearly fully upright because of her height. She was no longer dressed in her casual attire, and once he noticed, he frowned. He'd forgotten or overlooked the fact that she'd be leaving this day.

"Yes, I took you up on your challenge."

Ataashi smiled over at him, "It was a suggestion, Cullen, not a challenge."

"Oh, I assuredly heard a challenge regarding a certain dance owed." Cullen crossed his arms over his chest as his eyes traveled down to the courtyard. He saw Rainier helping Cole and Sera load up the saddlebags of two dracolisks while Vivienne stood on the stone steps directing their efforts. "Chasing another lead?"

Ataashi hummed her assent, "Vivienne believes she may have some intel from an old acquaintance of hers in Val Royeaux. And Sera just so happens to have some sort of Red Jenny contact in the same area who might also have information and, well, Cole has been wanting to go back out into the field for some time after we found the amulet for him to wear. Figured this was as good a time as any."

"How long will you be gone?" Cullen rarely, if ever, asked this question and had never done so before outside his position as the leader of her forces. Yet here he stood next to her, wondering about her return as one might wonder for a friend.

"Uncertain. I hope not long enough to miss your family when they come to visit." Ataashi stood to her full height and looked down at him. "Send me a raven if anything changes, and we need to come back right away."

Cullen fell into step alongside Ataashi as she walked down the stone steps to meet the others. There were no more efforts for goodbyes, as there was no cause for any. Nothing formal had been spoken between them, and aside from friendly concern, Cullen had yet to determine if Ataashi felt any added warmth towards him beyond friendship. If that was all she was willing to give, then he would have to accept it. Perhaps become one of those lost hearts Josephine spoke about.

Cullen managed the rest of the day just fine, and with a sleeping drought provided by Dorian, he slept fitfully but without nightmares that night. The next day, however, everything turned to shit again. He couldn't concentrate, he barely could get an adequate sentence out without his childhood stutter coming back to mess things up, and all the while, his head pounded, and the bones of his body throbbed.

By the third day of Ataashi's departure, Cullen all but locked himself in his tower, communicating via letters only if it could be helped. Cassandra stopped by to make sure he had done nothing drastic, and Dorian kept leaving tea outside his door, but no one else attempted to come inside his tower. He stood staring at his last dosage of lyrium, still in the box with the paraphernalia needed to take it. Cullen heard his former friends' voices, now dead, demanding that he take it and avenge them. He heard Meredith's voice accusing him of weakness and frivolity. Even the voices of his parents came to him, pleading with him to take it, asking him why they need die alone in the Blight if he intended to throw away the Templar order in the end.

Cullen growled. Picking up the box, he threw it as hard as he could at the wall. Cullen let out a curse as he watched Ataashi abruptly shift backward and duck down to avoid being hit. Shattered debris still coated her tunic with bits of wood, but Maker preserve him, at least she hadn't been hit full on.

"I guess the box had it coming," Ataashi stood straight and dusted off her tunic, "or I did."

Cullen shook his head, clenching his shaking hands together, "I swear I didn't know you were-" He had nearly hurt her. Cullen closed his eyes and tried to breathe slowly. "I never meant for this to interfere." When he opened his eyes, Cullen saw Ataashi had moved closer and now stood just a breath away from him, leaning against his desk and staring at him with open concern.

"I believe you."

The voices of his friends, Meridith, his parents, all came back and crowded out her voice. Cullen couldn't stand still anymore and took to pacing, pressing his hands over his ears as he walked. If only they'd shut up and leave him alone!

"Whatever good it does." He pounded his fist in his hand and continued his pacing. "Promises mean nothing if I cannot keep them. You know why I want nothing to do with that life!" Cullen turned to stare at Ataashi, watching and waiting as if she were going to demand further justification from him for his feelings.

Instead, she nodded, "Of course."

"You should question what I've done." Cullen braced his hands on the table next to where she had perched. His head was pounding, and his heart was weary. "I thought this would be better. That I would regain some control over my life." He snorted as he stood straight again and resumed his pacing. "But these thoughts," he turned to face Ataashi and pointed to his head, "they won't leave me. And how many lives depend on my success?"

Cullen closed his eyes and again tried to regain control of his breathing. Everything was building, as if in a musical crescendo, and he wasn't certain what might happen when it reached its climax.

"I swore myself to this course." He chanted. "I will not give less to the Inquisition than I did to the Chantry." The voices returned, accusing, judging, pleading. Cullen opened his eyes and growled, "I should be taking it!" He lashed out, and before he realized what he'd done, books fell from their shelves. In shock and shaking with pain, Cullen looked over to see his fist embedded in the wood of his bookcase. "I should be taking it," he added more quietly, surprised at the level of unbridled violence he'd just given into without warning. What else was he capable of?

Suddenly, Ataashi's large hand moved into view, taking hold of his fist and pulling it towards her body, "This doesn't have to be about the Inquisition." She continued to hold his hand between both of hers, her eyes wide as she studied him. "Is this what you want? Do you want to take it again?"

"No," he sighed out the answer and swayed on his feet, only barely resisting the urge to crumple into her arms, "but these memories have always haunted me. If they become worse." He felt her hands tighten on his. "If I cannot endure this-"

Ataashi stepped closer, "You can."

It sounded a combination of order and encouragement. Either way, Cullen felt renewed strength course through his body as he continued to stand there, his hand held by hers, her clear gaze on him, and her support in his choice genuine and unfaltering. He nodded, ready to pledge his success based on her belief in it alone.

"Thank you," he missed the warmth of her touch when she abruptly let go of his hand, "for coming to see me. If there's anything I-" Cullen sighed and rubbed his hand over the muscle of his shoulder. "This sounded much better in my head."

"So you're feeling better?" Ataashi looked to the damaged bookshelf, and Cullen's gaze traveled with hers over to the remains of the box he'd thrown earlier. "No more furniture breaking?"

Cullen smiled, "Yes, I am feeling better. The pain comes and goes." He stintingly moved to sit at his desk and motioned for Ataashi to take the seat across from him. She surprised him by coming around the edge of the desk and again perching on the edge near his chair. "Sometimes I feel as if I'm back there and I hear their voices," at Ataashi's questioning look he added, "the dead. Family, friends, foes. They taunt, plead, accuse, sometimes they are real memories and sometimes fabricated ones born out of the pain of this moment."

"You shouldn't push yourself too hard, Cullen. While we all benefit from your expertise, me especially, Skyhold won't fall apart if you take an hour for yourself now and then."

"If you'll be joining me in those hours, I'll keep that in mind." Ataashi rolled her eyes at his words and smiled. The warmth between them was doing wonders for his headache. "You know what I said about not talking with my family about events at the Circle?" Ataashi nodded. "I have to admit, I was not myself after that. I was consumed with anger and for years that blinded me. I'm not proud of the man that made me."

Ataashi shrugged, "For what it's worth, I like the man you are right here, right now."

"Even now?" Cullen gestured to the fallen books waiting to be recovered and restored. "Seeing me like this?"

"Even more so. Not every man is willing to face his demons from the past and put distance between himself and everything that happened before that threatens to control him in the present. It is very admirable, and I respect you for that." She reached out and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "This is a start, Cullen, not an ending."

Cullen flushed, and a sudden memory of the more pleasurable parts of his dream from days before came back to haunt him. Having her so close like this, the two of them alone, had his imagination going in directions she did not deserve. He stood up and bent to pick up the books to remain occupied and keep himself from saying or doing something stupid.

"What about you?" He wasn't surprised when she bent and helped him pick up the books. "You have troubles of your own. How are you holding up?"

Ataashi waited till they had all the books replaced before moving over to clean up the lyrium box mess. He let her do that one alone, not wanting to get anywhere near it. She didn't press or look at him with judgment when she noticed he remained by the desk.

"I wake up terrified most nights."

"Nightmares?" He found a knapsack by the door and tossed it to her for her to place the fragments into.

She nodded, "Those and the thought that so many people depend on us. Corypheus is still out there and yet we get bottled down in the Game or everyday politics and sometimes I fear the Inquisition will lose its way, trying to be something it is not. I did not join this campaign to start another kingdom or to rival others, I am uninterested in the Game or political machinations. I want Corypheus dealt with, yet every day I see us falling more and more into the temptation to solve problems that, while they may need to be solved, shouldn't be solved by the Inquisition." Ataashi sighed and tied the knapsack shut, dropping it by the door before moving back to stand near him.

"We've made great strides. Do not doubt yourself or the Inquisition just yet. You are not alone in this fight and I have little stomach for the things you mentioned so you need not worry about my encouragement to stay in the Game once we stop Corypheus." Ataashi smiled her thanks. "If there's anything I can do, you have only to ask."

Ataashi sucked her lower lip between her teeth as her eyes wandered the office as if in search of something. Cullen had a hard time concentrating on anything else aside from the way her lip pulsated between her teeth as she moved her tongue against it. When she let go, he immediately looked back to her eyes, not wanting to be caught staring where perhaps a friend shouldn't.

"There is one thing I would like right now, but I will understand if it is too much to ask."

Cullen moved closer and shook his head, "No, please, ask."

"Very well," Ataashi stood to her full height and dropped her arms to her sides, "I have hugged no one before but on this last trip Vivienne told me of the merits of a good hug and I was curious what it felt like. Cole was too, but she refused to hug either of us. And Sera was too busy laughing to be much help either."

Cullen's mouth dropped open, "You've never-" Ataashi shook her head. "How is that possible?"

"Qunari are not known for their physical affection, and neither are Tal-Vashoth. It has only been since I left the mercenaries and joined the Inquisition that I realized there were other ways of expressing friendship, such as hugs and pats and even light punches." Ataashi grinned. "Light being the keyword. I don't think Sera appreciated my muscles that time, unlike every other time when she coos over them. While I've grown accustomed to these more casual and easy forms of affections, I've yet to experience a hug. From my understanding, hugs can be exchanged between friends of either gender, without expectations for more than just the physical affection shared in that moment." It sounded as if she was trying to justify her request, and the vulnerability he spied in the gleam of her eyes had his heart fluttering with hope.

"So you would like me to hug you?" Cullen asked, still amazed that this situation was even real.

Ataashi blushed, "Unless that is too strange a request, and it makes you uncomfortable. I know you are going through a lot and-"

Cullen opened his arms and without preamble wrapped them around Ataashi's torso. With their height difference, and there was no avoiding it, his head remained pillowed between her breasts—not that he minded in the slightest. He kept his hips a respectable distance away from hers and placed his palms flat against her back. She was very warm, and just as strong as he imagined she'd feel. Sinewy steel under a casing of flesh. And she smelled of earth and sunshine. Cullen couldn't help but close his eyes when, after a few cautious breaths, she lowered her arms to drape over his body and he felt her hands splay on his back. He felt the weight of her head press against the top of his a moment later. They stood like that in silence, for Cullen hadn't a clue how long. He was content to hold her for as long as she liked, for he soon discovered, holding her and being held silenced the voices, and for the first time in weeks, he felt free from the presence of his ghosts.


End file.
